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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744260">put your money where your moth is</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life_After_Dark/pseuds/Duck_Life_After_Dark'>Duck_Life_After_Dark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A Leitner Made Them Do It (The Magnus Archives), Bugs/Insects, Cunnilingus, Emetophobia, F/F, Humor, The Corruption, weird but sweet?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:16:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life_After_Dark/pseuds/Duck_Life_After_Dark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Melanie's hell job gets worse when she stumbles upon a peculiar Leitner. Fortunately, Georgie is there for her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Georgie Barker/Melanie King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>put your money where your moth is</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Georgie’s not exactly a celebrity— at least, no more so than Melanie herself is— but her podcast has a decent following. She’s got fans who tune in with some frequency. All those people out there, coming back to "What the Ghost" every week to listen to Georgie Barker’s silvery voice telling ghost stories and plugging mattress companies. All those people, and not one of them knows the feeling of that same beautiful voice whispering filthy, gorgeous affirmations in between their thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie sighs— or tries to, but it’s hard to get enough breath into her lungs. Her pulse is thrumming and her chest feels tight, and every gentle kiss Georgie presses against her skin sends her reeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she’d shown up at Georgie’s flat, Melanie had practically jumped her girlfriend, mouthing messy kisses into her neck and tugging her toward the bedroom. So Georgie had dropped her book on the coffee table and let Melanie lead the way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t even felt like there was time to properly undress. Melanie could feel her skin crawling beneath her clothes, inflamed with need and desperate to be touched. Now she lays spread out on Georgie’s bed, her tights rolled down and her skirt hiked up around her waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie draws closer to her and starts to peel down her cotton briefs, and the feel of her breath against Melanie’s groin sends electric shivers up through Melanie’s entire body. And then her chest gets tighter, her breath catches. She coughs, tries a few times to clear her throat and ends up in something of a coughing fit, rolling up on her elbows as she tries to catch her breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie leans back, concern etched across her face. “Babe, are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie gives her a thumbs-up through the coughs, embarrassed at ruining the mood. She sits up straighter, chest spasming as she hacks and coughs. And then finally she feels whatever’s in the back of her throat dislodge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She coughs into her hand, not really sure what to expect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What comes out of her mouth is a tiny brown moth, damp with her saliva. It twitches in the palm of her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie snaps her hand shut, dread drenching her like rain. (Weirdly, it does nothing to dampen her still-rampant arousal.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Melanie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’llberightback,” Melanie gasps, launching herself out of the bed. She stumbles into Georgie’s bathroom, trying to move fast despite the tights bunched around her ankles. Once inside, she slams the door behind her and leans over the counter, shoulders heaving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moth sits crushed in her hand, no longer twitching. Probably dead. It was alive when it came out of her mouth, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What. The. Fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She definitely doesn’t recall swallowing any bugs on her way here. As a matter of fact, the trip to Georgie’s apartment is something of a blur. She remembers being at the Institute, looking over a book connected to one of the latest statements. And suddenly all she knew was she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get to Georgie. Like the heat between her legs took over all her higher reasoning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie does the only thing she can think to do and pulls out her phone to make a call. “Basira, it’s me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hey,” Basira says, her voice pleasant and unworried on the other end of the line. “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That book, the, the, the one with the bug wings,” Melanie says, whisper-yelling into the phone from her perch on the toilet lid. “That was one of those fucking Leitners, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It didn’t have a label,” Basira says. “But based on, er, the statement associated with, it was… ya know. Weird.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weird,” Melanie repeats flatly. “Listen, I… I was flipping through the book this afternoon, and just now I… I coughed up a moth.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Basira repeats, still sounding too calm for Melanie’s liking. “What kind of moth?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, do you know the species?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don’t know the </span>
  <em>
    <span>species</span>
  </em>
  <span> you fucking weirdo. It’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>moth</span>
  </em>
  <span> and it came out of my </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddamn</span>
  </em>
  <span> mouth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” Basira says. “Is there any chance you swallowed a moth on the car ride to Georgie’s?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I DIDN’T HANG MY HEAD OUT THE WINDOW LIKE A FUCKING DOG.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just want to cover all our bases,” Basira says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And— listen,” Melanie says, her legs jiggling and jittering against the cold tile floor. “That’s not the only— I mean, ever since I looked in that book I’ve been… I’ve felt really… </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Basira says. “Are you feverish? Have you taken your temperature?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not-not-not not temperature hot,” Melanie sighs. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hot</span>
  </em>
  <span> hot. You know. Randy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Basira seems to think about that for a moment, and Melanie wants to scream. She can practically see Basira’s expression of academic curiosity. “Aren’t you with Georgie right now? She can… you know. Scratch that itch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I cough up another moth?” Melanie hisses. “Or worse, what if… what if it comes out of somewhere else?” Basira, damn her, laughs. “I’m serious!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s your girlfriend, you know her best,” Basira says. “She already knows you work at Elias Bouchard’s House of Horrors. Odds are she won’t even be surprised.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>full of horny moths</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean. Stranger things have happened,” Basira says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When? To who?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whom,” Basira corrects.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arousal spikes again. Melanie realizes she’s been subconsciously tilting her hips against the lip of the sink, seeking pressure. She sighs. “Alright, I’m gonna… I guess go try and explain this? To Georgie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good luck,” Basira says. “Let me know how it works out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you make yourself useful and burn that book?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Part of an active investigation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here’s your investigation— horny moths,” Melanie spits. “Case closed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll… talk to Jon about adding it to the burn pile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> mention—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t, I won’t!” Basira says. “I collect gossip, I don’t spread it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>counts as gossip?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen. It’s better than when I found out that Jon’s missing a rib.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two, actually,” Melanie corrects her. “Boneturner kept one for himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Basira replies, fascinated. “So Jon’s missing </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> ribs? You mean like Marylin Ma—?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hanging up now,” Melanie huffs, ending the call and slamming her phone on the bathroom counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now what? Her mind’s so clouded from arousal and dread it’s hard to think straight. It would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go back into the bedroom and just let Georgie take care of everything, but she can’t just do that knowing that at any moment she might start hacking up moths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Georgie?” Melanie calls through the door, wondering if this might be easier when Georgie isn’t looking at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything alright?” Georgie says from outside the bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something, um… something’s happened,” Melanie says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sick?” Georgie says. “Did you throw up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There, there’s her out. She can lie and say she’s caught some stomach bug, run home and let her vibrator deal with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except that Georgie is </span>
  <em>
    <span>right there</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Except that it would be so easy to just open up the door. Except that, as much as the heat raging within her wants her girlfriend sucking and licking and nipping at her, the part of her that’s still rational and scared wants Georgie, too. Wants her cheerfulness, her kindness, wants her warm hands holding her steady and making her feel like everything’s going to be alright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Melanie?” Georgie calls when she’s silent for too long. “Melanie, is it alright if I open the door?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… yeah,” Melanie says. “Yeah, okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Georgie opens the bathroom door and takes a good look at her, radiating concern. “Talk to me. How do I help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Melanie lies, bracing her hands on her knees. “I read a book at work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A book?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like… not like a normal book?” she says. “A fucked up book. You know? Like a spooky book.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A spooky book.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic </span>
  </em>
  <span>book,” Melanie snaps. “The book, it, ah. It may have… influenced me? I-I mean. Influenced me to… a-and that’s why I was so… eager… when I got back from work.” She presses her thighs together and tries to hide how “eager” she still feels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Well,” Georgie says, “I mean. I’ve seen </span>
  <em>
    <span>Star Trek</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you know. I know what sex pollen is. Is it like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie gapes. “I… yeah. I guess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If one more person responds to this fucking nightmare scenario with a mild “Hm,” Melanie’s going to lose it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… you know I’d never want to push you into something when you aren’t exactly in your right mind,” Georgie says, chewing on her lip as she chooses her words. “But… I’m here. I care about you. If you want me to help… I will.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will,” Melanie says, looking at her in astonishment. “You really will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. Yeah,” Georgie says with a shrug. “It’s basically like a magicky aphrodisiac, right? Makes me want you to quit that hell job even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but… well, I can’t do anything about that, not right now. What I can do right now… is be whatever you need me to be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Melanie says. Her face is flushed and her knees are shaking, but the tears in her eyes aren’t from frustration. It’s been so long since she’s had someone care for her the way Georgie does, and it still blows her away. And then she remembers— “Shit, wait. I didn’t tell you the worst part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The… </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst</span>
  </em>
  <span> part?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bugs. There’s… I coughed up a moth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You coughed. Up. A moth.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Melanie says. “You know the, uh, the all-powerful eldritch entities that rule over our nightmares blah-blah-blah? So, this book was connected to the one with the bugs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Melanie says. “I coughed up a moth and, uh, I’m not 100% certain but I think there are more on their way up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie nods, processes that. And then she says, “Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t change my mind,” Georgie says. “I’m here for you. It’s okay. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something bad </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> happened to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, of course,” Georgie says, reaching out to tuck a sweaty strand of hair behind Melanie’s ear. “But I can… I can make sure it doesn’t get worse.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie blinks. “Soooo I read a magic evil book and now there’s moths in my lungs and I’m so horny I can’t think,” Melanie sums up, just about ready to crawl into the nearest cave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean,” Georgie says, “I’ve heard weirder.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have?!” Melanie gapes, but then at the same time she and Georgie both say, “Jon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie laughs a little, and then she holds out her hand to Melanie. “C’mon.” Melanie grasps her hand and lets Georgie lead her back to the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie feels safe in Georgie’s room, Georgie’s bed, Georgie’s arms. Something faint and fluttery in her chest that has nothing to do with her feelings for her girlfriend beats against her ribcage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This okay?” Georgie says gently, tugging at her underwear, picking up where they left off. Melanie nods, even moving her hand over Georgie’s to nudge her forward. She needs, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a feeling that builds in her core and makes every part of her feel electrified, alive. Georgie pulls her underwear all the way off and tosses them across the room, not caring to see where they land. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie gasps, “Touch me,” which is ridiculous because Georgie </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> touching her, hands on her thighs and soft against her skin but it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>, never enough. Georgie obliges and traces her hand upward, skimming over Melanie’s clit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie lets out a low moan and grinds down, fucking herself on Georgie’s hand as the heat builds and builds between her legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then something soft and damp at the back of her throat, on her tongue. She turns her head and spits out another moth, this one gray-green. Its wings twitch against the bedsheets. Melanie stares at it, eyes wide, but Georgie pulls her attention back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here with you,” she reminds Melanie, rubbing small circles against her clit. Melanie lets out another gasp. “I’ve got you, alright? I’ve got you, sweetheart.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie moves against her hand, delicious friction sending waves of pleasure through her whole body. She can’t even bring herself to feel disgusted by her situation because nothing feels more </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> than being with Georgie like this, bare and vulnerable, giving herself to the other woman and knowing that Georgie wants nothing more than to make her feel good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another moth finds its way up her throat. Melanie opens her mouth to moan Georgie’s name and it flaps out, feathery antennae slick with saliva. She lets it fall to the bed below her, not taking her eyes off Georgie as Georgie licks a stripe up her cunt, sucking at her clit with devotion. Melanie moans again, too blissed out to form a word or name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between the attention Georgie is paying her clit and the sticky-sweet euphoria the Corruption has granted her, Melanie’s aware she won’t last long. It only takes a few minutes of Georgie working her into a puddle, tonguing at her clit and then dipping lower, deeper, and then she’s coming undone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a final gasp, Melanie lets loose a whole flock of moths from her mouth, green and white and black and brown and orange, all fluttering and flapping around her head. Exhausted and sated, she sinks back against Georgie’s headboard, looking up at the moths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes her a moment to realize that she can hear Georgie laughing. “Jesus,” Melanie pants, still coming down from her climax. The moths fly around her like a halo, making her think of the little birds that circle cartoon characters after they get a bad knock on the head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright?” Georgie asks, looking up at her with her chin balanced on Melanie’s thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so,” Melanie says. “I… yeah, yeah, I’m okay.” The fog of need that’s been choking her all day has dissipated. She can breathe easy again, her lungs and throat clear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie pats her lightly on the leg and rolls off the bed, throwing open the window above her nightstand. She makes a few shooing motions to get the moths to fly away, vanishing into the evening. The cool outside air that seeps in feels good against Melanie’s flushed skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie shuts the window and climbs back into bed with Melanie. “Bet you Cosmo doesn’t have any tips about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she jokes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie laughs, reveling in the feeling of unconstricted use of her lungs. She feels hazy and warm and safe, and there are no longer insects trying to fly out of her. “Thank you,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t actually have to thank me for going down on you, you know,” Georgie says, leaning over to press a kiss to her neck. “I mean, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span>… later. If you like. I accept fruit baskets, back massages and that purple thing you have that fits into the harness.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Relief, endorphins and affection make Melanie feel light-headed. “I meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you</span>
  </em>
  <span> for dealing with… whatever the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> that was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Melanie,” Georgie says, clumsily patting the back of her hand, “even hopped up on freaky sex pollen and coughing up moths, you’re still the sexiest ghost hunter in the UK.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I honestly don’t know how to respond to that,” Melanie says. So she curls closer into Georgie as the sweat cools on her skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, a whisper of moths flutters past the window. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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